Miss Gloria v. Jason Pooper

Miss Gloria v. Mr. Pooper

“Hello, Miss Cupidon. Please take a seat here. I’ll let Jason Pooper know that you’re here.”

“Jason Pooper? Oh no. I refuse to work with that man.”

“Well, Miss Cupidon, Mr. Pooper is the executive director of your show. He’s the top-level leader.”

“Well, I didn’t hire him. It’s my show. I should have some input.”

“Let me ring Mr. Pooper. He can explain the details to you.”

“I’d like to wring that Mr. Pooper’s neck myself,” Gloria said, motioning with her hands.

“Hello, Mr. Pooper? Yes, Gloria Cupidon is here. Okay, yes. Thank you.”

Jason Pooper entered the reception area from his office. “Miss Gloria, what a pleasure to see you.”

“Give it up with the pleasantries, Poophead. You and I have a lot to talk about.”

Debbie guided Gloria into Mr. Pooper’s office. As she turned to leave, she gave Pooper a quick, flirtatious glance, the kind that said she wouldn’t mind being the next one he called in. Gloria caught it instantly and rolled her eyes. Debbie blushed, then disappeared out the door.

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“Gloria, you’re here today so we can discuss the details of the contract you signed with Oliver Olivier last week,” Pooper began.

“Take your hat off and slow it down, poop-for-brains. I want to know why you are here.”

“I’m the executive producer of your show.”

“My show, eh? Well, I didn’t hire you.”

“No, Oliver Olivier hired me for the job.”

“But it’s my show, and I’m firing you.”

Pooper adjusted his magenta tie and cleared his throat, “It doesn’t work that way, Gloria. Oliver Olivier hired me. He’s the owner and CEO of Oliver Olivier Productions, the company that produces the show. You’re the star, but Oliver Olivier owns it. It’s his show. It’s right there in your contract.”

Gloria flipped through the fine print and said, “Wait, this part of the contract is dated 2084.”

Pooper replies, “That’s just the renewal term.”

Gloria smirks, “So my hologram will be hosting reruns fifty years after my funeral? Go figure, you big-wheel Hollywood types really think you can pull the wool over us common folk with your contract talk.”

“Can we please discuss your contract in detail so you can understand what you signed?”

“Okay, go ahead. I’m waiting,” Gloria sits with her arms crossed.

“The first article states that you’re initially being hired for six episodes at $25,000 per episode, for a total of $150,000. If the show catches on and gains strong viewership, it’ll be extended for an additional twenty-two episodes, at $35,000 each, totaling $770,000. If extended, you’d do twenty-eight shows for the year, with total earnings of $920,000. Oliver Olivier, as Owner and CEO of Oliver Olivier Productions, retains full ownership of the program.”

“Then if Oliver Olivier owns my show, he’s my boss—not you.”

“Well, see, Gloria, I am your boss. Olivier hired me to run the show.”

Gloria tapped her wheel rim impatiently, “Then I quit.”

“Once again, we have a contract with you. If you quit before completing the six episodes, you’ll pay a $20,000 penalty.”

“You know Pooper, you’re that flush that just won’t go down. Okay, let’s try and work this out.”

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“First things first, Gloria. You’ll have equal creative control of the show. You’ll be billed as both the star and co-producer. However, as executive producer, I’ll have the final say on all important decisions.”

“So, I can choose my own guests for the show?”

“Yes, you’ll be able to choose some of your guests. We’ve already chosen the guests for the first three episodes: rapper Lil Hammertoe, supermodel Davinia, and Taylor Swift.”

“Ooh, I’ll have fun with Taylor Swift.”

“Well, Gloria, we’ll have a script for you to follow.”

“And I’m the one who won the fashion show, went viral, and got my own talk show because I went off-script.”

“We’re fully aware of that. There’s a provision for it in your contract. In simple terms, we’ll provide questions for you to ask your guests—but you have the freedom to ask them in any way you feel comfortable.”

“I guess I can hang with that, Pooper. Who’s my first guest?”

“Lil Hammertoe.”

“Oh-ho-ho, I’m gonna have a lot of fun with that name.”

“Now, now, now, Miss Gloria.”

“Don’t worry, Pooper, I’ll play nice until the cameras roll.”

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